In a fantasy, I might receive an e-mail that said, "Dear Mr. Burridge, normally we'd think that somene who can't follow simple instructions is a boob, but the deathless prose that an author of your calibur writes transcends rules for mere mortals, and we'd like to pay you for your story twice." Oh, I left out the getting a unicorn part. Oh well. I wish I could find when they're open for prose submissions, but I'm not finding the information, so I guess I'll have to re-visit their web site. When I'm more awake.
The tree pollen count was over 500 yesterday, and I've been slightly conjested for the last week. I don't mind the eye-goop in the corners of my eyes when I wake up, but the tickly throat is tiresome.